


Resplendent

by immistermercury



Series: canon fluorescent! verse [8]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (I know!), (obligatory), Fluff, JiM - Freeform, M/M, but his new job is VERY EXCITING, domestic as hell, freddie has retired from dancing, freddie trying to be serious, grandads, jim is senior concert master at the roh, not helping, now let's find out what freddie's doing!, set a year after phosphorescent, small child cuddles, this is so deep in the fluorescent verse, we are proud of him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24807349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immistermercury/pseuds/immistermercury
Summary: “I won’t give you a pointe lesson you already know at eleven o’clock.” Freddie laughed, laying back on the sofa.“My feet hurt just thinking about it.” Oliver grinned. “Does this mean you’ll finally wear sensible teaching shoes?”“I will be buried six feet under before you ever catch me wearing those monstrosities, darling, get fucked.” Freddie rolled his eyes playfully. “I intend to teach in pointe shoes or split-soles, whichever the role requires. I’m not making any allowances.”
Relationships: Jim Hutton/Freddie Mercury
Series: canon fluorescent! verse [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1363732
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Resplendent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nisargasinha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisargasinha/gifts).



> DON'T WORRY BOUT FANS I'M NOT REPLACING IT
> 
> Nish and I were talking about Freddie's future after ballet (an idea that made us both very sad) and then I came up with this and made her cry with happiness so I thought I'd immortalise it in an actual fic!
> 
> 1996:  
> Freddie - 45  
> Jim - 50  
> Oliver - 24  
> Talulah - 23  
> Reuben - 21  
> Zala - 20  
> Raphael - 4  
> (Also, if anyone's curious, Olga is about 60)

The screech of his name could be heard from streets away, Jim was sure. They weren’t even on the same floor of the Royal - Jim was down in the orchestra pit, finalising tuning on the pianos and the cellos before the performance that evening, while Freddie was tucked away in one of the upstairs offices for the obligatory fortnightly meetings he had as a senior ballet master - and yet the sound was crystal clear. He heard the footsteps as he thundered down the escalators, down the audience stairs, looking anywhere and everywhere to find him, ignoring crowds of people filtering in for that night’s show.

That was very unlike Freddie, he considered - after spending his whole life selling his body to crowds each night, he never sold himself short.

He ran through the circle seating, past people aghast to see him, and threw himself into the orchestra pit, straight into Jim’s arms. “What is it, baby?” Jim asked with a chuckle, kissing the top of his head; he was sure hundreds of people could see them, and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“I got the job!” He said breathlessly. “I got the job, I got the fucking job!”

His mouth fell open. “You mean-”

“I’m the new director of the Royal Ballet.” He laughed and covered his mouth, his eyes wide and excited. “They want me to start next week.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Jim laughed, squeezing him so tightly. “Freddie, that’s fucking incredible!”

“I can’t believe I got it!” He laughed, ducking his head down and running his fingers through his hair. “I’m in charge of everything, the school, the company, the schedule, welfare, finances, promotions, everything. They think I’m the best to do it all.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Jim said seriously, pulling him into a kiss. “You’ve been retired a year, and now you’re the fucking director.”

“I can still barely teach.” He grinned up at him. “Maybe I should put some work into learning what comes in what order at the barre.”

“Don’t tell me you did that again.” Jim chuckled.

“I missed out plies entirely. One of the new boys had to correct me, bless him, he looked so embarrassed.” Freddie shook his head, his cheeks aching with how happy he was. “I’ve got a week to learn how to be director.”

“What’s the first thing on your agenda?” He asked with a laugh.

“Everything!” Freddie rolled his eyes playfully. “The interim organised these performances, but aside from that, the whole of the rest of the season is unplanned. Ideally, I need to decide on the fucking running order for the rest of the season in the next three days.” He laughed softly. “How many fucking shows do we do in a season? I’ve never paid attention to all this stuff, I bullshitted my way through the interviews, and now I’ve got to make the decisions.”

“How many would you usually rehearse?” He asked.

“Maximum four at a time, and then we’d perform a fifth.” He said automatically. “So five, then, per sub-season. That’s- what, seventeen- no, sixteen shows I need to choose, including the last two before the break in the summer, seeing as one’s already happened? And I need to draw up cast lists for them, too, but I might get Olga to help with that. And then I need to organise insights and press releases for the next few so we can get them to the papers.” He blew out a breath and laughed again. “I’m not sleeping for the next few nights, clearly.”

“You’ll be sleeping plenty, even if I do have to chain you to the bed.” Jim laughed and kissed the end of his nose. “You tell me what you choose, I’ll handle all the orchestra lists, I can hold that meeting for you.”

“Thank you, darling.” He smiled. “Next week is the start of the school and company auditions, too, and I want to be fairly hands-on with those. And then I’ve got to decide if I’m sending kids to the Prix in Switzerland, and- fucking hell, why does so much happen in September?”

“Because we’re all knackered by February.” Jim chuckled. 

“There’s so much I want to do.” Freddie smiled, a little shyer. “God, I can’t believe this is real.”

“Have you told the kids?” He asked hopefully.

“I only knew about thirty seconds before you did, darling.” Freddie laughed. “Is Olly dancing tonight?”

“Talulah definitely is, she’s debuting. And Raf’s in the creche, so I’m assuming he is, otherwise he wouldn’t be here so late. I think Gio’s on hand tonight.” He chuckled. “Busy day for everyone.”

“Oh, fucking hell, I was supposed to go and get Raf.” He shook his head. “And I need to go and wish Talulah good luck. Jesus, I haven’t got a minute to breathe today.”

“Go and get Raf and go home.” Jim chuckled. “And don’t work past nine. Have some fun with the little one.”

Freddie smiled then and let himself relax. “Yeah, we can sort all this out tomorrow.” He agreed. “What’s your running time on this one?”

“Due to finish at quarter past ten, it’s not that long. I’ll be home before you know.” Jim promised, kissing his lips quickly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Freddie hugged him with a smile. “God, I love you.”

* * *

Raphael giggled incessantly, watching as Freddie cupped bubbles in his hands and blowing at them until they flew into the air. “Look!” He squealed.

“I know!” Freddie said, laughing as he blew some at the little boy.

“Pop!” Raphael reached up to poke them and laughed when they burst. “Pop, pop!”

“Pop, pop, pop!” Freddie joined in, happy to leave Raphael in the bath for as long as he wanted to play - every time Freddie gave him a bath, they played at racing ducks back and forth along the water, making him howl with laughter. “Shall we make your hair all bubbly?”

He nodded excitedly as Freddie picked up his shampoo from the side and lathered it between his fingers before he carefully laced his fingers between his freshly brushed curls. “Now you can go pop!” Freddie told him, showing him all the bubbles in a little mirror. 

“Pop!” He echoed, grinning, and watched the bubbles run down his arms as Freddie rinsed out his hair. “Baba?”

Freddie swore that every time he spoke the word, his whole heart filled with love; it was nothing like his fear of being  _ daddy.  _ Baba was a word filled with molten hot love, the love of a chaotic family, the love of two men who had picked up some of the loveliest children imaginable with the strength of their love - it was a symbol of the world he’d never stopped fighting for. “Yes, darling?” He asked.

“I’m going to be very clean.” He giggled.

“You are! You’re a water baby.” Freddie chuckled. 

“Can we have cuddles?” He asked hopefully as Freddie lifted him out of the bath and wrapped him a soft towel. 

“Of course, darling, always.” Freddie leaned forward and kissed his nose, helping him to dry off. “We can have lots of cuddles until Daddy and Papa come for you.”

He grinned. “Can I have a Baba biscuit?”

Freddie never thought he’d be the grandparent with the treats - he’d spent so long without ever considering learning how to make such things - and yet his house almost always smelled of something sugary, sweet, something to have with a cup of tea and a crisis, something to put a smile on a face, something for the children to miss so that they’d come home faster. “Is that even a question?” He asked teasingly. “You know I always make biscuits for you!”

He giggled. “Milk and biccies. That’s what Daddy says.”

“Oh, Daddy is so right.” Freddie promised him. “I used to give your Daddy a biccy if he was good when I brushed his hair.”

He nodded immediately and reached for the hairbrush, handing it to Freddie. “Thank you, baby.” He chuckled. He helped Raphael into his pajamas and then brushed his hair, making it as easy as he could so it wouldn’t pull; the little boy squealed in delight as Freddie picked him up and pressed a kiss to the end of his nose. He carried him down into the kitchen and put him down in the armchair, reaching into the biscuit tin. “Would you like chocolate chip, darling?”

He nodded immediately. “Please.” He grinned. 

Freddie poured him a glass of milk and retrieved two biscuits, one of which he handed to him. “Would you like bed cuddles or sofa cuddles?”

“Sofa cuddles!” He said happily. “Can you read a story?”

“Why don’t you go and choose one?” Freddie asked with a smile. “I’ll get us a blanket.”

* * *

Raphael was fast asleep against his chest by the time Oliver finally came to the door, and Freddie was dozing himself, cheek against the crown of his head as they lay cuddled up together. He held him so tightly, so protectively, and stirred a little at the noise of people in the house - his eyes met his son’s, Oliver’s smile at the sight of them together, and he yawned and smiled back. “I promise we were reading.” He laughed, voice thick with sleep.

“Poor babe must be exhausted. Did you get out late?” Oliver asked, sitting beside him and stroking Raphael’s hair. 

“I think we got home at about eight. I didn’t get out until the performance started.” Freddie chuckled and rubbed his eyes. “We’ve had dinner and bath time, though, so he just needs putting down for the night when he gets to yours. I thought I wouldn’t wake him when he fell asleep, it’s already a late one for him.”

“I’m not working tomorrow, so I’ll give him a little sleep in.” Giovanni walked into the lounge and smiled. “Hi, Freddie.”

“Evening, darling.” He smiled, handing him the little boy when he reached for him.

“Baba-” Raphael’s eyes snapped open, and he suddenly gasped with delight. “Papa!”

“Hi!” Giovanni grinned at him, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose. “Are you a sleepy baby?”

He nodded and snuggled against his father’s chest, looking so happy and content as he allowed his eyes to close.

“Okay, so I’m sorry to spring this on you this late, but I’ve heard so many rumours I’m going out of my mind to know.” Oliver grabbed one of Freddie’s hands. “Is it true?”

“Is what true, darling?” Freddie asked, though he was grinning.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, you bastard.” Oliver pushed his shoulder playfully. “I had someone stop me at the stage door to ask me. Are you the next director?”

Freddie smirked and sat up a little, shrugging. “I couldn’t possibly confirm or deny.”

“Oh my God!” Oliver threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly. “It’s true!”

“We’re not announcing it until next week.” Freddie laughed and hugged him back tightly. “But yes, darling, I’m going to be the director from now on.”

“I can’t fucking believe it.” He laughed into his neck. “That’s absolutely incredible!”

“They’ve left it in a proper state, none of this season is planned yet. I’ve got to do it in the next few days.” He chuckled. “If I’m an absolute disaster in class, I give you full permission to tell me to concentrate.”

“Are you still teaching?” He asked curiously, pulling back a little. “Are you taking class tomorrow?”

“I can’t change the schedule around so late now.” He shrugged. “It’s only an hour and a half. Plus, I love teaching class, I’m just terrible at it.”

“I think you’re good at it! Most teachers don’t give guys and girls the same thing to do, and then talk about the technical variation. You get the guys to go over properly on the box, and I’ve seen other teachers let it slip.” He smiled.

“That’s because they don’t realise it’s a problem. They just assume it’s the weight balance, but that’s not true. It’s all about your centre of gravity.” He chuckled. “I won’t give you a pointe lesson you already know at eleven o’clock.”

“My feet hurt just thinking about it.” Oliver laughed. “Does this mean you’ll finally wear sensible teaching shoes?”

“I will be buried six feet under before you ever catch me wearing those monstrosities, darling, get fucked.” Freddie rolled his eyes playfully. “I intend to teach in pointe shoes or split-soles, whichever the role requires. I’m not making any allowances.”

“What’s going on in here?” Jim asked, opening the door, and smiling at the sight of his boys in the lounge. “Evening, gentlemen.”

Freddie stood up quickly and went over to him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “Evening, darling.” He said softly. “I’ve just been telling the boys the news.”

“What, that you’re going to be the shortest company director that there’s ever been?” Jim joked, resting his head on top of Freddie’s head when he cuddled up against his chest. “They’re as proud of you as I am, I trust?”

“Of course we are.” Oliver leaned down to kiss Freddie’s cheek and smiled. “He’s going to make it the best it’s ever been.”

* * *

“Okay, so-” Freddie stood up, rubbing his hands together shyly, and grinned at the staff in front of him - teachers, ballet masters, physiotherapists, conductors, guest trainers, rehabilitation experts, the whole team that worked so diligently behind the scenes, alongside the assistant directors, the financial directors, and the core staff of the school. “I must say, it feels utterly bizarre to stand in front of all of you.” He admitted with a laugh. “I imagine you all know my name, but if for some reason it’s escaped your mind, then my name is Freddie Hutton, and I am the new director of the Royal Ballet and Royal Ballet School at the Royal Opera House.”

Jim winked at him from the back of the room and Freddie laughed softly, ducking his head down, before he glanced back up at them all. “I imagine some of you will be awfully confused by this news, because I certainly was, but I’m going to do my best to fix some of the institutional problems we’ve had for too long. I’m going to make this the best place to work and train in the world.”

He rested his hands on the table and smiled. “I’m not talking streamlining, I’m talking extending. More staff, more shows, more facilities. More dancers, a greater intake from the school especially, and more musicians. And if you’re in this room now, it’s because you’ll be the heads of your departments, because you’re more skilled then I could ever imagine being. I want you to take the opportunity to tell me the problems you’re having, so that I can fix them. For example, I know that as teachers, we’re struggling with outdated equipment in some of our rooms, and sometimes we’re struggling with time to coach properly. I want all dancers to be able to work up through the ranks, and I want all musicians to have the opportunity to play solos when they’re confident enough, and I want you to tell me how we’re going to achieve that. I want-”

Freddie broke off as he glanced at Jim, who was trying to balance his pen on his top lip, and shook his head with a laugh. “I don’t care if I’m married to you, I will kick you out of this meeting.” He told him, raising his eyebrows.

“Sorry, darling!” He replied, placing the pen down on the desk with a chuckle.

“What was I saying?” Freddie asked, glancing upwards for a second. “I’ve got it. I want your help.” He reiterated. “When I ask you how things are going, I don’t want you to tell me they’re fine if they’re not. Whether it’s for personal or business reasons, I want to know the truth. I’m going to do my level best to spend as much time training and teaching as I can, and spending time with different teams, and I’d love to do some classes in the school, because I don’t just want to be locked up in this office all the time. That’s what I have finance for.” He winked at the team with a chuckle. “Just because I’m the director doesn’t mean I’m not Freddie. You’ve all known me for years, and I want that to stay the same. Come here if you’re tired and you want tea, come here if you’ve got a welfare concern, come here if you want to gossip about the new dancers, I don’t mind. The thing that made me stay in this company was the feeling of family, and that’s why we’re going to do this together.” He shuffled his papers straight and then looked up at them again. “I’m as new to this as you are, remember, and I need all the help I can get. Don’t be afraid to give it to me.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

* * *

_ “I’m so proud of you.” Olga kissed his forehead and then hugged him to her chest. “God, you really felt the part up there.” _

_ “I was shaking!” Freddie laughed, hugging back. “Like I’m some kind of fraud and this is going to be taken away at any second.” _

_ “This is your world now, darling. Isn’t it exciting?” She asked with a grin. “I can’t wait to see what you do next." _

**Author's Note:**

> I might make this longer? I really love the idea of big director Freddie and I hope you do too! Let me know what you think down below! xx


End file.
